Ed Buddy

Last year an old boyfriend from a quarter century ago found my number and sent me a text message.   We texted and then caught up on the phone at the time.   We talked about what had happened in our lives during that time and where we were now.   We laughed at all the good times we had and asked if we were each still in touch with the friends we’d had back then.

Some of the friends we were still each in contact with, even close to, while others we’d lost contact with.   One person was a roommate Jason had had while we were dating.  Ed, or, “Ed Buddy” as he was called, had sort of disappeared.   No one had heard from him after he’d moved away for a job.

This morning I had a text from Jason with a link to an obituary.   Ed had died and Jason had happened to stumble across the obituary as they’d been classmates in school together.   The obituary said Ed had been survived by his parents and his husband.

I messaged Jason back and said it was sad news indeed.   Jason said he’d had a chance to speak with his husband.   I asked how he was taking it, that I couldn’t imagine losing my spouse.   Jason said he was doing well, considering.   None of us knew his husband.   None of us knew he was gay.   His husband of fifteen years told Jason that Ed had cut off contact with people from his life before because he didn’t know if he’d be accepted for being gay.

Jason and I texted about it for a bit.   Neither of us would have cared and more to the point, would have been supportive of him as, we think, all of our friends would have been.  I hope no one gave him any indication they wouldn’t have been.   It’s hard to think back over all the events of those years and know for sure though.

As I texted Jason while I sat in my car, I found myself crying.   Not because I was sad Ed had died.   Surely, that was sad, but I hadn’t seen him in over twenty-five years.   I was crying because he didn’t know if he would be accepted by his friends.

The Big Boy Update:  This morning on the way to school my son told me, “time goes slower with you’re not having fun.”  He had had a difficult morning getting ready for school.   He then said, “my favorite time of the day is dinner because dad makes the best food. I think dad should open a restaurant.”

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   My husband texted me this picture from the front yard yesterday: